Salt on the wounds

The leaden sky presses on the shoulders like old debts,
We measured the residential blocks with our steps, wearing out our boots.
Not a penny in the pocket, but in the chest — fire and soot,
I saw how easy it is to take off and how easy it is to lose it all.
The boys in the courtyards traded principles for comfort,
Someone made it in life, and someone left for the port ahead of time.
And this memory is not an archive, it's broken glass in the sneakers,
We wanted the truth so badly, completely forgetting about half-measures.

Припев
Pour salt on my wounds so I don't fall asleep!
So I remember how this world once bent me.
It's not pain, brother, it's just an antiseptic for the soul,
Pour salt on my wounds, you and I will still breathe.
Pour salt on my wounds...
Come on, don't hold back.


My city bares its teeth with the rusty rebar of unfinished buildings,
Among the empty eye-sockets of apartments and dead gas stations.
I remember every word that hit harder than lead,
When we walked to the edge, not seeing the end with you.
Now everyone has their own cross, their own mortgage and God,
And I sum it up, stepping over the threshold again.
We are not saints, no, but we didn't sell our voice,
Even when the white stripe broke under our feet.


No one promised it would be smooth!
Life strikes backhand, without gloves, just for order!
And if you fall — get up, clenching your teeth until they crunch,
In this empty train car, it's already too empty without us!



Припев
Pour salt on my wounds so I don't fall asleep!
So I remember how this world once bent me.
It's not pain, brother, it's just an antiseptic for the soul,
Pour salt on my wounds, you and I will still breathe.